


Day of Rest

by Siria



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e20 Enemy at the Gate, F/M, Future Fic, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-25
Updated: 2009-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-03 21:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rhythm of life was different here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day of Rest

**Author's Note:**

> For darkrosetiger, who requested 'family holidays.'

The rhythm of life was different here. The expedition members had persisted in using their clock, their calendar, once they reached Atlantis, but the spin of New Lantea around an alien star had called for extra hours in an Earth day, extra days in its year—yet once Atlantis had landed on the grey waters of San Francisco Bay, it was 1500 on a Friday and Teyla felt disoriented. She had grown used to a hybrid pattern of three seasons and twenty-eight hours to a day interwoven with seven days a week and a day that was considered to start at midnight—there were no such concessions here on Earth.

Day by shortened day, Atlantis became less a home and more a place where Teyla was contained, allowed to leave only at the pleasure of IOC officials, left to stand on a balcony and look out at a city that could not look back at her. It was odd to see how a city that she had long considered a home could lose its sense of place so easily, become a place where she felt awkward and off-kilter, counting down the days until she could be back in another galaxy with her son.

There were meetings and conferences and lists to be checked, and it was more effort than Teyla could spare to take Earth days and make them what they should be in Athosian—so it was a surprise when Rodney came to her one morning, before she had finished her precious, rationed mug of stout tea, and presented her with a garland of flowers. They were not from a species with which Teyla was familiar, and for a moment, the bright red flowers confused her—but then she thought of small yellow buds instead of big scarlet blooms, and realised that this Monday was Founder's Day.

Her eyes widened as Rodney slipped the garland over her head—she had forgotten, but Rodney had remembered. He mumbled something about a calendar conversion program he'd written, about chance remembrance and happy holidays. "Rodney—" she began, for once at a loss for words, before settling for a simple, "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he said, gesturing at the garland. "I know they're the wrong kind, but I didn't have so much to work with and I thought—well, better something similar than nothing at all, and it's not really fair that you don't have your family with you on a holiday this important, and—"

"Rodney," Teyla said, interrupting him softly, slowly. "Why would you think I am without family?" And then she stood up her tiptoes so that she could reach his mouth—felt the soft slant of his lips against hers, the scrape of his stubble against her cheek; smelled the crisp, sharp scent of the flower petals crushed between them—felt her days stop, and start anew.


End file.
